


The Friend Zone

by gckinsey



Category: Beetle Juice (1988)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-24
Updated: 2013-06-24
Packaged: 2018-02-04 01:29:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1761833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gckinsey/pseuds/gckinsey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Twenty-year-old Lydia Deetz doesn’t know how to tell Beetlejuice she wants to be more than friends… but a little bad advice can go a long way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Friend Zone

“How’d it go this time, babes? No, wait, let me guess - boring?”  
  
Lydia bolted her dorm room door and smiled at her best friend, Beetlejuice, who was lounging in the air several feet above her bed.  
  
“No, actually,” she replied.  
  
“No?” His brow furrowed sharply.  
  
“This one was…  _extremely_  boring.”  
  
Beetlejuice smirked and sank down onto the covers.  
  
“Well, good thing  _I’m_  the kind of guy who always knows how to show a girl a good time,” he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her onto the bed next to him.  
  
“Mmf!” Lydia gasped as her face hit the pillows. “BJ!” She shoved his arm with her elbow, knocking him off balance as she crawled into a sitting position.  
  
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and used it to pull himself up against her.  
  
“So,” he said, nuzzling the side of her head and grinning at her suggestively, “whatcha wanna do tonight, Lyds?”  
  
“Well, let’s see…” Lydia said, resting her head on his shoulder. “You can help me pack.”  
  
“Pack?” he said, wrinkling his nose.  
  
“Yeah,” Lydia said. “We have to go back to Winter River tomorrow, remember?”  
  
“Oh boy,” Beetlejuice cackled, eyes gleaming with the thought of potential pranks, “a whole summer with Chuck and Delia!”  
  
“Yeah,” Lydia said, rolling her eyes as she stood up, “oh boy.”  
  
She started pulling her belongings from the closet while Beetlejuice conjured several boxes with a snap of his fingers.  
  
“Thank God, only one more year at this place,” Lydia sighed. “I wonder if my parents would co-sign a lease on an apartment instead of making me live in this shitty dorm again.”  
  
Beetlejuice helped her empty the closet, floating objects off the shelves and into the boxes.  
  
“Well, someone’s a little ray o’ sunshine tonight,” he teased her.  
  
“Like  _you’d_  be a ray of sunshine if you’d just been on that yawn-fest of a date,” Lydia grumbled. “Besides, when have I ever been a ray of sunshine, anyway?”  
  
“Oh, I dunno, maybe when I do stuff like… this?” Beetlejuice answered, juicing her several feet into the air and spinning her around until she was giddy with laughter.  
  
“Thanks, Beej,” she said when he lowered her to the ground.  
  
“No problem,” he said. “Just thought you could use a little pick-me-up.”  
  
“Very funny.” Lydia rolled her eyes at Beetlejuice’s ever-present literalism as she began to clean out her desk. “At least I won’t have to go on any more stupid dates while I’m back in Connecticut.”  
  
“If they’re so stupid, why do you keep goin’ on ‘em here?” Beetlejuice asked.  
  
“I don’t know,” Lydia said, “it wasn’t like any of them were  _my_  idea.”  
  
Lydia hadn’t dated at all in high school. As a student at an all-girls’ school, she didn’t have much opportunity to meet boys - and with a freaking ghost as her best friend, she frankly didn’t have much desire.  _Maybe I’ll meet someone in college_ , she thought vaguely. But being in co-ed classes didn’t make a difference - none of the boys seemed to notice her.  
  
Until her junior year, when they noticed her work.  
  
She had finally made it to her advanced art and photography classes, where her creations earned her a lot of attention (not to mention part-time jobs with the university’s fashion design and dramatic art departments). It didn’t matter that she was the same reserved, deadpan goth who’d been hiding in the corners of their classes for the past two years. The boys had taken an interest.  
  
At the same time, Lydia had also taken an interest… in her best friend.  
  
“Come on, babes,” he was saying to her on the day of her first fashion photo shoot, wrapping his arms around her to calm her nerves, “you’ve got nothin’ to worry about,” when she had the strange and sudden urge to kiss him.  
  
 _What the hell are you thinking, Deetz?_  she asked herself as soon as the moment passed.  _Do you really want to end up with bug bits in your teeth?_  
  
But when she had the same urge a few weeks later during one of their late-night floating strolls across campus, she realized that his bug-munching didn’t bother her nearly as much as it should have.  
  
After all, she’d even eaten a bug herself once - on a dare from Beetlejuice at her high school graduation party. He’d pan-seared a beetle for her, coated with brown sugar, and even though she’d chased it with several sodas and it wasn’t an experience she ever cared to repeat, she knew she couldn’t judge him for his snack of choice.  
  
Just like she couldn’t judge him for the mossy growths on his body and face (a remnant of the lake he’d drowned in, he’d told her during one of their few serious conversations), or his special brand of personal hygiene (which made a much bigger difference for breathers than for ghosts, anyway), or any of the other excuses she’d been making not to like him  _that way_. Lydia had no reason to ignore her growing feelings for him anymore.  
  
…Except that he was her best friend, and those feelings could ruin everything.  
  
To her frustration, Lydia had no clue how he felt about her. He’d spent months helping her find the Maitlands when they’d been banished to a new house, even after Juno had made it clear that marrying Lydia to get a one-way ticket out of the Neitherworld was no longer an option. He valued the friendship he and Lydia had shared since then enough to follow her to college and haunt her dorm room (ensuring she wouldn’t have a roommate again after her first semester). He didn’t hold back on his lecherous brand of humor, which had only gotten dirtier as as she’d grown older. And he certainly wasn’t shy about touching her.  
  
But what did that  _mean_ , exactly?  
  
He’d never quite crossed the line from platonic into more, even though he was constantly skirting right up to the edge of it. So when a boy in one of her classes had asked her out on her very first date, Lydia resigned herself to saying yes.  _It’s not like BJ is ever going to make a move_ , she thought bitterly.  
  
Feeling awkward and oddly nervous, Lydia told Beetlejuice about the date, and to her disbelief, he threw a hissy fit that lasted several days.  
  
 _Oh my God, is he actually jealous?_ Lydia thought, a surge of hope igniting her insides. But while he freely admitted to being jealous of the time he’d lose with her, he never said anything to indicate he was jealous of the romance.  
  
So she went on the date… and spent the whole time bored out of her skull.  
  
She couldn’t remember much of that night anymore, just flashes of her inner monologue:  _Why does he only want to talk about my work, like I’m some kind of serious artist? Why isn’t he even trying to make me laugh? Why the hell can’t I be here with BJ instead?_  
  
“How was your date?” Beetlejuice huffed when she returned, saying the word ‘date’ like he was talking about a horrible curse, and she felt the spark of hope return to her chest.  
  
“Boring,” she complained. “A total drag.”  _Come on, Beej, take the hint._  
  
“A drag, huh?” he smirked, and whisked her off to the Neitherworld to see a drag performance by the recently deceased Divine.  
  
 _I don’t believe it_ , Lydia thought.  _Is he really making up for my bad date by taking me on a better one himself?_  
  
But when he ended the night with a hug that was no different from the thousands of others he’d given her, she sank onto her bed numbly, the roar of disappointment in her ears warning her not to get her hopes up again.  
  
Lydia’s first date had started a pattern - every time she returned from another first date with another college boy, she would tell Beetlejuice how boring it was and spend the rest of the evening with him. Lydia never turned down a first date with any boy who asked for one, but she also never liked any of them enough to accept a second. It wasn’t that these young men were truly boring  _people_  - they just didn’t compare to her best friend.  
  
And really, how could they, when they were just breathers and he was the ghost with the most?  
  
\- - - - -  
  
“You want to do  _what_?”  
  
Delia’s shrill voice made Lydia take a step back, wincing.  
  
“All I did was ask,” Lydia sighed. “It’s not like I already found a place and moved in.”  
  
Delia ignored her, turning toward the staircase and shouting, “CHAAAAARLES!”  
  
He stumbled out of his study a few seconds later, panicking, rushing down the steps.  
  
“What is it? What’s wrong?”  
  
Charles stopped short when he saw that Delia and Lydia were talking in the living room, and that there didn’t seem to be a flood or fire.  
  
“Delia,” he groaned, “sweetheart, how many times have I told you not to yell like that unless it’s an emergency?”  
  
“Your daughter,” Delia cut him off darkly, “just announced that she plans to live in her own apartment next year. How is  _that_  not an emergency?”  
  
“I didn’t say I planned to,” Lydia muttered, “I just said I wanted to. It’s not a big deal.”  
  
“Why, pumpkin!” Charles smiled, making both Delia and Lydia gaze at him suspiciously. “I didn’t know you’d taken an interesting in buying property like your old man!”  
  
“Uh, that would be renting, Dad,” Lydia said quickly.  
  
“Oh well… renting’s not a bad way to start,” Charles shrugged.  
  
“Charles, the campus has dorms for a reason,” Delia said.  
  
“Yeah,” Lydia said, “for freshmen and sophomores to live in.”  
  
“Don’t you talk to me like that, young lady!” Delia hissed.  
  
“Like what?” Lydia said - she’d kept her voice a careful monotone throughout the whole conversation. Seeing that she wasn’t going to make any headway with Delia, she turned toward Charles.  
  
“Dad,” she said, “I barely know any juniors who still live in the dorms, let alone seniors. If I have to stay there, it’s fine, really. But I thought since it’s my last year, maybe I should rent a small, cheap apartment and start learning how to take care of my own place.”  
  
Charles smiled and patted her on the back.  
  
“That sounds like a good idea to me,” he said. Turning to his wife, he added, “See, Delia? Look how responsible she is. She’ll do  _great_  in an apartment!”  
  
Delia’s intense glare flickered back and forth between them.  
  
“Who’s going to pay for it?”  
  
\- - - - -  
  
And that was how Lydia found herself working in the food court of the local mall.  
  
After her parents had tentatively agreed to let her rent an apartment, on the conditions that they help pick it out and that she earn as much rent money as possible, Lydia had agreed to start her first summer job.  
  
She tried telling Delia she wanted to work as a freelance photographer, but Delia ( _of all the damn people!_ ) shot that down, insisting that Lydia get a “real job - the kind where you have to leave the house and interact with people, dear!”  
  
“You’re a freelancer, too,” Lydia pointed out, but her attempt at appealing to Delia’s artistic sensibility (a thought that made Lydia snort) went ignored.  
  
“If you’re going to be a  _professional_  artist like me,” Delia said, “you need to learn discipline. And where better to find it than in retail or service?”  
  
 _Like you’ve ever worked in retail or service_ , Lydia sneered at Delia in her head.  
  
Even Charles took Delia’s side, brushing off Lydia’s complaints with, “It’ll build character, pumpkin!”  
  
So Lydia grudgingly crossed the Winter River Bridge into the neighboring city of Peaceful Pines and scoured the Mondo Mall for jobs.  
  
She hoped the toy store, pet store, and movie theater wouldn’t want to hire her - they all seemed much too loud and messy. She didn’t even apply at any of the clothing stores, whose upbeat music and cologne-scented air gave her an instant headache.  
  
 _My best bet’s probably the stupid food court_ , she thought, and she turned out to be right - the years spent inventing all sorts of strange Neitherworldian cocktails with Beetlejuice had made her well-qualified for a job as a barista.  
  
Her friendship with Beetlejuice had also left her more than prepared to deal with obnoxious customers. Even so, he spent the night before her first day of work helping her “practice,” watching her make drinks in the kitchen while he said as many distracting things as he could think of (some of which made her blush).  
  
“Ooh, babes,” he leered at her while she was working on a frozen lemonade, “I wish you’d squeeze  _my_  lemon like that. Heh heh.”  
  
“BJ!” Lydia cried out, dousing his face with her drink.  
  
He just smirked and took a step closer, leaning into her personal space.  
  
“Ya gonna lick that off?”  
  
 _Oh my God, what if I actually did it?_  Lydia thought wildly, and before she could stop herself, she was tentatively leaning closer to him and extending the tip of her tongue. At the last second, she chickened out and blew a raspberry in his face.  
  
“In your dreams,” she said smugly, and they both laughed.  
  
The next day, Lydia felt a rush of gratitude for her practice session with Beetlejuice (no matter how awkward it had almost gotten) when she saw her first annoying customer approaching - Clare Brewster.  
  
“I’ll have a strawberry pineapple smoothie with nonfat yogurt and, like, a bunch of extra protein powder,” the blonde said, smacking her gum.  
  
“Coming right up,” Lydia said unenthusiastically, resisting the temptation to spit in Clare’s cup.  
  
 _Come on, babes_ , she could imagine Beetlejuice egging her on,  _it’s a thick shake, she’ll never know the difference -_  
  
 _Shut up_ , she cut him off.  
  
“Oh my God,” Clare’s voice interrupted as Lydia started blending her smoothie. “ _Deetz?_  Is that you?”  
  
Lydia forced a fake, sickly sweet smile.  
  
“Yep, it’s me!” she said. “How have you been, Clare?”  
  
“What  _happened_  to you?” Clare ignored Lydia’s question. “You’re even paler and more deathly than usual.”  
  
Lydia’s smile grew a little more genuine.  
  
“Thanks!”  
  
“Eww,” Clare said, “what _ever_.” She reached into her designer purse and pulled out her wallet. “How come you’re working at the mall?”  
  
“I’m earning rent money for next year,” Lydia answered.  
  
” _Earning_  money?” Clare repeated, accidentally-on-purpose flashing several hundreds as she fished through her wallet for small bills. “That’s too bad.”  
  
Lydia gritted her teeth and turned back to the blender. That  _bitch_.  
  
 _Don’t let her get to you on your first day of work_ , she told herself, putting fruit garnish on Clare’s smoothie.  _This is exactly the kind of thing BJ was preparing you for_.  
  
 _Hmm… BJ…_  
  
If there was anything Clare knew a lot about (besides making people miserable), it was dating. She’d had her first boyfriend before she’d even gotten to high school, and had maintained a steady stream of them ever since. She could probably tell Lydia how to go about making the first move.  
  
 _What’ve you got to lose?_  Lydia thought as she set Clare’s smoothie on the counter.  _If you have to put up with her anyway, you may as well get something out of it._  
  
“That’ll be $3.57,” Lydia said. “And Clare?”  
  
” _What_?” Clare huffed, handing over the cash and taking her cup.  
  
“What do you know about getting out of the friend zone?”  
  
\- - - - -  
  
Clare stared for three full seconds before she started snickering.  
  
“Oh, sweetie,” she said, patting Lydia’s arm condescendingly, “if you’re already in the friend zone, then it’s too late.”  
  
Lydia shrugged off Clare’s hand.  
  
“What’s  _that_  supposed to mean?”  
  
“Come  _on_ , Deetz,” Clare said. “Guys only hang out with girls for one reason. So if  _he’s_  the one friend zoning  _you_ , you really don’t have a chance.”  
  
The words hit Lydia in the gut like a bag of ice.  
  
 _What if she’s right?_  Lydia thought, panicked, but then immediately countered,  _Stop that. Don’t let her get to you, remember?_  
  
“With my best friend it’s different,” Lydia said coolly, hoping her fear didn’t show in her face.  
  
“Really,” Clare scoffed.  
  
“Yeah,” Lydia said. “I met him when I was 13, so obviously he wouldn’t’ve had feelings for me then.”  
  
“Why not?” Clare’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “Is he, like, older than you or something?”  
  
Lydia held back a smirk.  _You have no idea._  
  
“Yes,” she said.  
  
“How much older?”  
  
Lydia sighed. She hadn’t planned on sharing this much information. For simplicity’s sake, she decided to go with his age at the time of his death.  
  
“…37?”  
  
Clare’s mouth fell open for half a second, then turned upward in a grin.  
  
“Daaaaaamn, Deetz!” she said, pulling Lydia out from behind the counter and steering her toward one of the food court tables. “Are you on break? Let’s sit down.”  
  
 _Great_ , Lydia thought. But at least Clare was truly intrigued now. And who knew, she might actually be able to help.  
  
“So how did you meet this guy?” Clare asked.  
  
 _Let’s see_ , Lydia thought, smirking,  _the ghosts in our house summoned him to help scare my parents away. Then I summoned him to save those ghosts from an exorcism. Then I summoned him again a year later to help me find those ghosts when my parents got them in trouble and their caseworker kicked them out of our house. And the rest is history._  
  
…Yeah, that’d go over well.  
  
“My family hired him to do some… work around the house,” Lydia said instead. “We ended up becoming friends after that.”  
  
So what if she’d left out a couple - okay, a  _lot_  - of details?  
  
Clare was smirking again.  
  
“I always knew you were  _waaaay_  more of a freak than you let on, Deetz,” she said.  
  
“We’re  _just friends_!” Lydia said. “That’s the problem, remember?”  
  
“Right,” Clare said. “Well, if he’s been your friend for that long, why don’t you just, like… tell him how you feel?”  
  
Lydia blinked.  
  
“Tell him?” she repeated.  
  
“Yeah,” Clare said. “Just walk up to him and say, ‘Hey -’ …what’s his name?”  
  
“BJ,” Lydia replied automatically.  
  
Clare snorted.  
  
” _BJ_? God, Deetz, could he  _make_  it any easier? Just walk up to him and say, ‘Hey, BJ, can I  _give_  you a -“  
  
” _Clare_!” Lydia cut her off, horrified. “I am  _not_  offering to blow my best friend!”  
  
Clare giggled.  
  
“Yet.”  
  
Lydia rolled her eyes.  
  
“Seriously, what should I do?”  
  
“Well, you’ve gotta tell him at some point,” Clare said. “It may as well be sooner rather than later.”  
  
“And how do I do that without putting our friendship on the line?” Lydia asked.  
  
Clare sighed.  
  
“You  _have_  to put your friendship on the line if you want more. Like, why do you think people hate the friend zone so much?”  
  
Lydia glared at her.  
  
“Still not helping.”  
  
“Fine,” Clare said. “I have an idea that worked for one of my friends. I don’t know how well it’ll work for you, but you could always, like, try it.”  
  
“What is it?”  
  
Clare leaned forward.  
  
“First, you tell him you’re going on a blind date…”  
  
\- - - - -  
  
Lydia pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose, pushing against the headache that was building there. This was  _never_  going to work.  
  
Following Clare’s suggestion, she’d bought two tickets to the amusement park in Peaceful Pines on her way home from work. She’d raided her closet and narrowed her options down to three outfits. And then she’d started pacing around her room in circles making herself sick.  
  
When Clare had finished telling her exactly what her plan entailed, Lydia had to ask her to repeat it. It was just too insane.  
  
“Are you stupid, Deetz?” Clare scoffed. “I  _just_  said when he drops you off for the blind date, you’re gonna tell him the date’s, like, really for him.”  
  
“That’s… what I thought you said,” Lydia replied, swallowing.  
  
“So what’s the problem?”  
  
“In what universe is that a good idea?” Lydia spluttered. “Why would I want to make him think I’m going out with another guy at first?”  
  
“Like,  _obviously_ , to see if he gets jealous,” Clare said, rolling her eyes.  
  
“So… would that be a good thing or a bad thing?” Lydia asked, making Clare groan.  
  
Now, several hours after that conversation, Lydia was pacing more and more frantically as she wondered what the  _hell_  had made her decide to do this crazy thing.  
  
 _It’s not too late to back out_ , she told herself.  _You haven’t called BJ yet._  But knowing her luck, he was watching her through the mirror and waiting for her to explain herself, anyway.  
  
Plus those tickets were too damn expensive to waste.  
  
Lydia took a deep breath and let it out slowly, running her hands down her face, before she squared her shoulders and turned to the mirror.  
  
“May as well get this over with,” she told her reflection, which was pale even for her. “Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice.”  
  
\- - - - -  
  
“Hey, Beej,” Lydia said, trying not to enjoy it too much when he greeted her with his usual hug.  
  
“Hey, babes,” he said, “how was your first day of work?”  
  
“Ugh,” Lydia groaned, collapsing onto her bed, “exhausting. Clare Brewster was one of my customers, and you won’t believe what she did.”  
  
” _She_  did somethin’ to  _you_  when you could’ve spit in her drink?”  
  
“Believe me, I thought about it,” Lydia said. She folded her arms and said through clenched teeth, “That bitch set me up on a blind date.”  
  
Beetlejuice floated down to join her on the bed.  
  
“You don’t sound too excited about it.”  
  
“Who gets excited about a blind date?” Lydia said.  
  
“Hey, at least you don’t have to worry about what you’re gonna wear if he can’t see ya, right?” Beetlejuice smirked.  
  
Lydia swatted his arm.  
  
“BJ, that’s terrible!”  
  
“Thanks,” he grinned.  
  
“Seriously, what if this turns out to be a disaster?” Lydia asked. “For all I know, the guy could be a big sleazeball.”  
  
“A bigger sleazeball than me?” Beetlejuice said teasingly. “I doubt it.”  
  
“Well, that’s different,” Lydia said, “you’re a sleazeball who’s trustworthy.”  
  
“Hey! How dare you accuse me of being trustworthy?”  
  
Lydia laughed, shaking her head.  
  
“You know I’d never do  _that_ , Beej.”  
  
“Tell you what, babes,” said Beetlejuice, his tone turning a little more serious, “how about I drive you to your date, and if the guy’s a creep, we’ll leave.”  
  
Lydia glanced up at him, surprised.  
  
 _Well, that was easy_ , she thought,  _I didn’t even have to ask_.  
  
“You’d really do that?”  
  
“Sure, if it makes you feel better,” he said. “Hell, it’d make  _me_  feel better.”  
  
Lydia dared to give his shoulder a squeeze.  
  
“Thank you, BJ.”  
  
She felt his arm snake around her waist and his chin drop to the top of her head.  
  
“Anything for my Lyds.”  
  
She snuggled closer and sighed blissfully, hoping he couldn’t tell how much faster her heart was beating.  _Is a breather’s heartbeat even more obvious to someone who’s dead?_  
  
Lydia barely had time to think about it before his fingers started tickling her side.  
  
“Hey!” she squealed, jumping up and attacking him with tickles of her own.  
  
She was grateful he’d started a tickle fight, because when he made her laugh, she could forget that he made her nervous. Plus he was touching her, and that was always a good sign… right?  
  
After a few minutes of alternating between screaming with laughter and begging for mercy, Lydia reluctantly pulled away from him and stood up.  
  
“I should probably start getting ready - “  
  
“Oh, no ya don’t!”  
  
Beetlejuice floated into the air and attacked her from behind, hooking her under the armpits and dragging her back down to the bed.  
  
“BJ!” Lydia cried out as he started sprouting extra arms to tickle her sides and the backs of her knees. “No fair!”  
  
She tried to reach around behind her to tickle him, but it was no use - he had her pinned with her back flush against his chest. Somehow he’d even managed to hook his ankles around hers so she couldn’t escape. So she stopped trying, instead relishing the sensation of his body against hers and his many arms wrapped around her.  
  
Noticing her stillness, he tickled her harder.  
  
“Aww, come on, babes, you’re no fun!” he said when she still didn’t resist.  
  
“I’m going to be late if I wait any longer,” Lydia sighed, knowing it meant she’d have to leave his embrace.  
  
…Only he wasn’t letting her go.  
  
“Sure you don’t wanna just blow the guy off and stay here with me?”  
  
Lydia’s heart pounded so hard that she was sure one of his six hands (or was it eight now? she’d lost track) could feel it through her skin.  
  
“He’ll probably turn out to be boring like all the rest of ‘em, anyway,” Beetlejuice continued.  
  
Lydia cleared her throat to make sure she could still talk.  
  
“As tempting as that is, Beej, don’t you think I should at least meet him before I decide to ditch him?”  
  
Beetlejuice groaned, his extra arms shrinking back up into his torso and his real ones releasing her.  
  
“You and your  _conscience_.”  
  
“Conscience?” Lydia said, raising an eyebrow. “Screw that, I just got the tickets already.”  
  
Both of them laughed.  
  
“Tickets for what?” Beetlejuice asked.  
  
“The amusement park,” Lydia replied.  
  
“The amusement park?!” Beetlejuice moaned, slapping his palms against his forehead. “Babes! How could ya? You’re gonna make me drive you there and not let me go inside?”  
  
“I’m pretty sure you  _offered_  to drive,” Lydia reminded him.  
  
“Yeah, well, that’s ‘cause you didn’t tell me where you were goin’!”  
  
“Okay, okay.” Lydia rolled her eyes, not only at his antics but at the irony of what she was about to say. “If the guy’s boring, I’ll call you inside and go to the amusement park with you, instead. Happy?”  
  
“Ya really mean it, babes?” he asked, giving her his best puppy-dog eyes.  
  
Lydia snickered.  
  
“How can I resist a face like that?”  
  
Opening her closet, she looked at the three choices of outfits she’d picked earlier and grabbed her favorite.  
  
“I’m going in the bathroom to change. And don’t you dare peek through the mirror,” she added, not meaning a word.  
  
\- - - - -  
  
A few minutes later, dressed in black leather capri leggings and a shimmering black peplum corset, Lydia emerged to the sound of a slow wolf whistle from Beetlejuice.  
  
It made her jump.  
  
 _Shit_ , she thought, heat rising in her cheeks.  _Please don’t let him notice I’m blushing…_  
  
“Guess that means I picked the right outfit,” she said, a hint of nervous laughter in her voice.  
  
“You’re tellin’ me, babes,” Beetlejuice said. “How come you haven’t gone on your other dates dressed like  _that_?”  
  
“Well, those other dates were at restaurants and movies,” Lydia said. “For the amusement park, I thought I’d be better off wearing pants.”  
  
“You call  _those_  things  _pants_?” Beetlejuice teased. “They’re not just painted on? You sure it’s legal to wear ‘em out in public?”  
  
“BJ!” Lydia said, feigning exasperation to cover her glee.  
  
 _Okay, so he’s noticed my body_ , she thought.  _That’s good. But he doesn’t know if I should wear these out in public, which means he’s being a concerned friend, and that’s… bad? Unless he said that because he only wants me to wear them for him, and that’s… kind of good and bad? But mostly good? God, I don’t know anymore._  
  
“Ready to go?” she asked, pushing her confusion aside.  
  
“Ready when you are, babes,” he said.  
  
As they headed downstairs and toward the front door, they passed by Delia, who was reading a magazine in the living room. Beetlejuice made himself invisible just before she looked up.  
  
“Hi, Lydia,” she said.  
  
Beetlejuice chose that moment to materialize on the sofa beside her, making her jump and drop her magazine on the floor.  
  
“What’s shakin’, Delia?”  
  
“Oh! BJ!” she exclaimed. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”  
  
“Great!” he cackled, standing up and walking over to Lydia. “Well, Lyds and I are headin’ out for a while.”  
  
“Okay,” Delia said. “Be careful, you two.”  
  
“We know,” Lydia said. “Well, some of us do, anyway,” she added, grinning at Beetlejuice as they started walking to the door.  
  
“What was all that racket upstairs?” Delia asked.  
  
Lydia froze. Delia had  _heard_  that?  
  
“BJ was just tickling me,” Lydia said casually.  
  
Delia raised an eyebrow at Beetlejuice.  
  
“Isn’t Lydia a little… old for you to still be tickling her?”  
  
“Oh my  _God_ , Delia,” Lydia groaned.  
  
“Come on, you know I’d never do anything inappropriate with my Lyds,” Beetlejuice told Delia.  
  
Lydia closed her eyes.  _Well, fuck_.  
  
“…If I had, you’d’ve heard a whoooole different kind of racket, know what I mean?”  
  
” _BJ_!” Lydia shouted, mortified, elbowing him in the gut. “Let’s  _go_.” She dragged him out the door by his sleeve before Delia could stop them again.  
  
“Really, Beej?” she sighed when they were on the porch. “Saying stuff like that in front of my stepmother?”  
  
“I say stuff like that in front of everyone, babes,” he snickered.  
  
Lydia shook her head and pulled him toward the car.  
  
As soon as they started rolling down the Deetzes’ long, winding driveway, the enormity of what Lydia was about to do hit her.  
  
 _I’m not ready for this_ , she thought.  _I can’t do it. I don’t know what he’s going to say. What if this destroys our friendship? What if that was the last tickle fight we’ll ever have?_  
  
“Uh… BJ?” she said faintly, turning toward him but not quite trusting herself to look into his eyes. “…I might throw up on you.”  
  
“What?” he said, caught off guard. “Lyds, what’s the matter? Don’t tell me you’re nervous about a blind date - “  
  
“Of course I’m nervous!” Lydia said. “I’ve never been on a blind date before.”  _Sure, that was it._  
  
“Well, blind dates ain’t nothin’ to worry about,” Beetlejuice said. “Hell, they’re the only kind of dates where there’s no pressure at all. If it works, it works, and if not… you’ve got nothin’ to lose, right?”  
  
Lydia let out a deep breath, trying to calm her churning stomach.  _That’s what you think._  
  
“I guess so,” she said.  
  
“Hey,” Beetlejuice said, briefly squeezing her knee, “if you get on the date and you’re still nervous, just pretend he’s me.”  
  
So much for a calm stomach.  
  
 _And there goes mixed signal number eighty-three_ , she thought.  _I’ll never figure him out._  
  
\- - - - -  
  
They were pulling into a parking space now, and Lydia’s palms were sweating so hard they were leaving wet spots on her leather pants.  
  
 _Oh my God, this is actually happening_ , she thought.  _In a few minutes, I’m actually going to tell him how I feel._  
  
“Ready to do this, babes?” Beetlejuice asked.  
  
“S-sure.”  _No._  
  
“Know where you’re s’posed to meet the guy?”  
  
“At the front gate,” Lydia said. She finally looked up at him. “Uh… thanks again for driving me, Beej.”  
  
 _Now tell him he’s supposed to get out of the car and go in with you_ , she thought, but she couldn’t make her mouth form the words.  
  
It turned out she didn’t have to.  
  
“Hey, not so fast,” Beetlejuice said, “you’re not gettin’ rid of me yet.”  
  
“…Huh?”  
  
“I’m gonna walk you to the gate and meet this guy,” he explained, “make sure he’s okay before I drive off and leave you with him.”  
  
Lydia smiled weakly.  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
They got out of the car and walked to the front gate. There was no one else waiting there when they arrived -  _of course_ , Lydia thought,  _there wouldn’t be_.  
  
“Guess he ain’t here yet, huh?” Beetlejuice observed.  
  
“Yeah, guess not,” Lydia said.  _Except he is. Because he’s you. Go ahead, tell him._  
  
“You’re not still nervous, are ya?” Beetlejuice asked.  
  
“A little,” Lydia admitted.  _Tell him, dammit._  ”Could you just… talk to me, make me laugh until he gets here?” she asked instead, her voice a little breathless.  
  
“You got it, babes,” Beetlejuice grinned, and they spent the next twenty minutes trading ideas on how to prank Lydia’s date if things weren’t going well. But even though Beetlejuice was eliciting a constant stream of giggles from her, he wasn’t really distracting her from the growing ball of nerves twisting her insides.  _Tell him_ , her mind prodded her again, but it was easier to just keep laughing.  
  
Finally, Beetlejuice looked at his collection of watches.  
  
“Jeez, it’s been twenty minutes,” he said, “where the hell is this guy?”  
  
 _He’s you. Now quit stalling and tell him._  
  
“I don’t know,” Lydia said.  
  
 _Really, Deetz?_  
  
“You don’t think the jerk stood you up or anything, do ya?” Beetlejuice said, his eyes glowering darkly and leaving Lydia to wonder what kind of mixed signal  _that_  implied.  
  
 _Stop thinking about it so much and spit it the hell out already!_  
  
“N-no,” Lydia said quietly, then cleared her throat and repeated a little more boldly, “No. He didn’t.”  
  
She took a deep breath and turned toward Beetlejuice before her fear could stop her again.  
  
“There’s no guy meeting me here,” she said, “and that’s because I actually planned all of this for you.”  
  
She’d expected him to be surprised, or maybe confused. She’d even thought he might be horrified (though she’d sincerely hoped not).  
  
What she hadn’t expected him to do was pull her into a bone-crushing hug.  
  
“Babes!” he was saying as she numbly wrapped her arms around his torso, trying to process what was happening. “If you wanted to go to the amusement park with me, why didn’t you just say so in the first place?”  
  
Lydia pulled back.  _Wait, what?_  
  
“Beej,” she said, but it came out so soft that he didn’t hear.  
  
“…Unless you were tryin’ your hand at a prank?” he continued. He smirked at her, hands still resting on her arms. “Well, you got me good, Lyds!”  
  
 _A prank?_  she thought, offended.  _Is that what he thinks this is?_  But despite her disappointment, she also realized he was unwittingly giving her another chance to back out. She could laugh it off with him, enjoy a night at the amusement park, and carry on as usual with their friendship.  
  
…Their tension-filled, mixed signal-ridden, utterly infuriating friendship.  
  
No, she  _had_  to set things straight.  
  
“BJ,” she started, but he’d already draped an arm casually across her shoulders and was steering her toward the gate.  
  
“Come on, babes, let’s find us a roller coaster!” he said.  
  
“BJ, wait,” she tried again, but he kept moving. With the ball of nerves in her stomach threatening to explode into full-blown panic, Lydia stopped walking, pulled his arm down from her shoulders, and said, “Beetlejuice, I’m trying to ask you on a date!”  
  
He stared at her for five full seconds without saying a word. Lydia couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so stunned speechless that he’d forgotten to warn her about using the B-word. In fact, she couldn’t remember him being stunned speechless at all,  _ever_.  
  
Lydia realized she was still holding his wrist, and was about to let go when she changed her mind and slid her hand down into his.  
  
 _If he’s not going to say anything_ , she thought,  _I guess I’ll have to_.  
  
“I’m tired of going on boring dates with boring guys I don’t even like,” she said, even though the ball of nerves was so big it was about to make her throw up. “I’m tired of wishing I was on those dates with you, instead. And I’m tired of pretending I see you as just a friend, when… I want to be more.”  
  
Eyes wide, Beetlejuice swallowed, and his hand tightened around hers.  
  
“Lyds,” he said, his voice dry. He cleared his throat. “Lydia.”  
  
 _Oh God, he used my full name_ , she thought, the ball of nerves choking her harder than ever.  _He only does that when he really means business. Then again, I used his, too…_  
  
“You’re - you’re serious, you really mean all that?” he asked.  
  
Releasing a shaky sigh, Lydia answered, “Yes.”  
  
Beetlejuice ran his free hand through his hair, still looking utterly shocked.  
  
“You sure?”  
  
“Yes,” Lydia said.  
  
“The age difference don’t bother ya?” he asked.  
  
“No,” Lydia said. Trying to smile through her panic, she added, “What’s a few centuries, right?”  
  
“And it don’t matter that I’m a ghost and you’re a breather?”  
  
“Of course not,” Lydia said. “You’re the ghost with the most.”  
  
“And you don’t care that we’ve been friends for years?”  
  
The ball of nerves had reached her eyes now, and was prickling them with the threat of tears.  
  
“BJ,” Lydia said, “if you want to keep things that way, then just… tell me, okay? Don’t make a bunch of excuses to let me down easy - “  
  
Beetlejuice tugged on the hand he was still holding and pulled her against him, using his other arm to press her body tightly to his.  
  
“Who  _says_  I wanna keep things that way?” he growled softly in her ear, cold lips and light stubble and moss tickling her skin.  
  
The ball of nerves erupted in a wave of fire.  
  
“So… you weren’t asking me those things because they bother  _you_?” Lydia said.  
  
“Nothin’ bothers me, babes.”  
  
“But… you also just told Delia you’d never do anything inappropriate with me…” Lydia said shakily.  
  
“Well, what’s inappropriate for most people,” Beetlejuice said, his lips brushing her neck and his hand sliding down to rest on a decidedly non-platonic part of her anatomy, “is totally fine by me.”  
  
Lydia’s eyes widened.  _Oh._  
  
Finally turning her head to face him, she asked, “So… that means you’ll go on this date with me?”  
  
“You know it, babes,” he grinned. Pulling back and slowly dragging his gaze up and down her figure, he added, “Hell, look at you, did you really think I was gonna say no?”  
  
The last of Lydia’s nerves bubbled up in a small laugh of relief.  
  
With his arm still around her and his hand still on her ass, Beetlejuice turned them in the direction of the gate.  
  
“Shall we?”  
  
\- - - - -  
  
“I can’t believe  _I_  had to make the first move when  _you’re_  the one who can’t keep your hands off me,” Lydia deadpanned before throwing a teasing glance up at Beetlejuice.  
  
It was true - they hadn’t stopped touching each other in the three hours since they’d arrived at the amusement park. He’d initiated most of it, and teased her mercilessly on the few occasions when she had, telling her he liked how much warmer she got when he made her blush.  
  
Now they were lounging in a paddle boat, his arm around her and his hand lazily stroking her leg.  
  
“Well, in case you hadn’t noticed,” Beetlejuice said, making her squeal as he pulled her onto his lap, “I’ve  _never_  been able to keep my hands off ya, babes.” He playfully pinched one of her thighs. “You’re not complainin’, are ya?”  
  
Lydia giggled.  
  
“Not since I was still jailbait.”  
  
He gave a snort of laughter.  
  
“By the way,” she said cautiously, “that doesn’t make this too weird for you, does it? That you knew me when I was a kid?”  
  
“It doesn’t make it too weird for  _you_  that I tried to  _marry_  you when you were a kid?” Beetlejuice retorted.  
  
“Point taken.” Lydia settled back against his chest. “Hey, didn’t Juno say that was illegal? For the living to marry the dead?” She swallowed. “You don’t think we’ll get in trouble for this…? I mean, what if Juno just pops up and - “  
  
“And what’s going to happen when the Maitlands find out, and how on  _earth_  are we going to tell my parents?” Beetlejuice said, taking possession of Lydia’s voice.  
  
“BJ!” She elbowed him, laughing.  
  
“Come on, babes,” he said, switching back to his own voice, “relax. Sure, this is a pretty… unusual arrangement we’ve got goin’ on here, but we’ll figure it out.”  
  
She smiled as she felt his fingers close around hers.  
  
“Wow,” she said, tilting her head up to meet his gaze, “BJ… you’re serious.”  
  
“How could ya tell?”  
  
“Because you’re squeezing my hand right now instead of my ass?”  
  
They both snickered.  
  
“I’m not saying I doubt you,” Lydia said, “it’s just… I still can’t believe you actually want to do this…”  
  
“You  _really_  don’t have to worry about  _that_ , babes,” he said, tightening his embrace around her. “Trust me,” he growled low in his throat, “I want you.”  
  
His words flooded her belly with hot tingles.  
  
“Been tryin’ not to for years,” he added softly.  
  
Lydia’s eyes widened, though she decided to do him a favor and not ask him just how  _many_  years.  
  
“Trying not to?” she questioned instead. “How come?”  
  
“…I didn’t know you saw me like that, Lyds,” he admitted. He snatched a cricket off the side of the boat and bit its head off with a crunch. “Hell, I didn’t think you ever would.”  
  
“Why, ‘cause you’re a dead guy who eats bugs?” Lydia teased him, plucking a leg off the half of the cricket that was still wriggling in his fingers.  
  
She barely caught the split-second of embarrassment that flashed across his face before he covered it with a nonchalant shrug.  
  
“Well, you know,” he said, “most breathers don’t really go for that…”  
  
“Good thing I’m not most breathers, hmm?” she smiled at him.  
  
She watched him finish the cricket and lick his fingers with a satisfied slurp.  
  
“…But maybe we should have a ten-second rule between when you eat a bug and try to kiss me,” she added. “Even I’m not into  _that_  kind of sloppy seconds.”  
  
“Damn, only a ten-second-rule, babes?” Beetlejuice asked, flashing a grin that revealed a little too much chewed-up bug for Lydia’s taste.  
  
“Ten minutes,” she amended. “For the crunchy ones… twenty for anything squishy.”  
  
“What if I speed things up like this?” he asked, and flew into one of his head spins. Lydia burst out laughing and ducked to avoid the flecks of cricket flying from his teeth.  
  
“You’re crazy, Beej,” she said when he finally stopped.  
  
“I can do that with my  _other_  head, too, babes,” he said, giving her his most salacious smirk yet, “in case you were wonderin’.”  
  
“Wasn’t!” Lydia gasped, smacking his arm playfully. “…Yet.”  
  
\- - - - -  
  
“You sure you have to go already?”  
  
They had returned from their date, and Beetlejuice was preparing to head back to the Neitherworld… only, Lydia wasn’t ready to send him there just yet.  
  
When they’d walked through the front door, they found Delia still reading in the living room.  
  
“You two were gone a long time,” she observed.  
  
“We were at the amusement park,” Lydia shrugged. “You know how the lines are.”  
  
They’d decided not to tell Lydia’s parents what had really happened at the amusement park - at least, not until Lydia was safely established in her own apartment and Beetlejuice was already haunting it.  
  
Now they were upstairs in Lydia’s bedroom, where she was nervously stalling for a goodnight kiss - since, despite her blatant hint earlier, Beetlejuice still hadn’t given her one.  
  
“I mean… feel free to stay and hang out, if you want,” Lydia tried again.  
  
He hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her against him, his face only a tantalizing few inches from her own.  
  
“I know, I know,” he said with a mocking sigh, “you can’t stand to be away from all this even for a second.”  
  
Lydia gave a shaky giggle and dropped her gaze to his lips for a few seconds before looking back up into his eyes.  
  
 _Come on, BJ, kiss me already._  
  
“…But I really oughta get back and do what I can to throw Juno off our trail, just in case,” he finished, pulling away.  
  
Lydia bit back a groan.  
  
“Welllll,” she said, giving his lips an even longer, slower glance, “okay.”  
  
 _For God’s sake, Beej, how much more obvious do I have to make it?_  
  
He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek, his slightly parted lips just barely grazing the corner of her mouth.  
  
 _Bastard._  
  
He pulled back again, giving her a devilish smile. Lydia’s jaw clenched. Sometimes he really was a piece of work.  
  
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” she said.  
  
“Okay, babes. Gimme those B-words.”  
  
He began to float toward her mirror.  
  
 _Oh, no you don’t… you are not leaving without giving me that kiss._  
  
“Beetlejuice…”  
  
She took a step forward and laid her hand on his chest.  
  
“Beetlejuice…”  
  
She opened her mouth, but instead of saying his name a third time, she grabbed him by his striped lapels and shoved her lips against his.  
  
She hadn’t anticipated just how  _cold_  his tongue would feel as it teased her lips open and probed her mouth. Her face grew hot even as she shivered, imagining the wet chill of his mouth -  _his extremely skilled mouth_ , she noted - exploring other parts of her body.  
  
She wasn’t sure how she’d expected him to taste - perhaps like the cricket he’d eaten, or the beer he’d drunk before that, or even the coke and licorice they’d shared when they first walked into the amusement park - but the dark taste of forests and lake water overwhelmed her senses and almost made her feel like she was drowning.  
  
 _Do all ghosts taste like the way they died?_  she thought vaguely, just before he slowly pulled away with one last flicker of his tongue along her upper lip.  
  
She opened her eyes and gazed up at him shyly.  
  
“Beetle - “  
  
He cut her off with a finger against her lips.  
  
“You know what, babes,” he said, floating away from the mirror, “I think I  _can_  stay, after all.”  
  
He settled down onto her bed and raised an eyebrow at her, suggestive grin and open legs leaving little doubt about his intentions.  
  
Lydia’s mouth fell open.  
  
“…To watch a  _movie_  or somethin’,” he said, “get your mind outta the gutter!”  
  
With an exasperated laugh, Lydia walked over to the bed and climbed in, sinking down next to him and snuggling against his side.  
  
“Really, BJ?” she teased. “Did  _you_  just say that to  _me_?”

**Author's Note:**

> Set in my own mix of movie/cartoonverse, in the sense that it's movieverse but Lydia and BJ still end up best friends. Concept inspired by/very loosely based on the MTV show "Friend Zone." I do not own "Friend Zone," or Beetlejuice (though I wish I did - he's pretty tasty). ;)
> 
> About ages: For BJ's age at the time of his death, which Lydia mentions in this story, I went with Michael Keaton's age at the time the movie was released (37). Winona Ryder was 17 when the movie was released, but I approximated Lydia to be about 13 or 14 during the events of the film (mostly based on Barbara referring to her as a "little girl," which I assume she wouldn't say about an older teen). Going by that timeline, Lydia is finishing her junior year of college and is just shy of turning 21 in this story. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this story - please let me know what you thought!


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